


He would have loved it

by NarcissisticAsshole



Series: There's no turning back from a path carved in stone [7]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Again, Angst, Basically a re-write of blowing up L'manburg and Techno's speech, But Wilbur feels that way, Canonical Character Death, Child Neglect, Explotions, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, I swear it's good though, Madness, Sort Of, Unreliable Narrator, What's new, With annoying character povs that change every five minutes, no beta we die like l'manburg, not really - Freeform, why do I always do this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:49:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27619967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarcissisticAsshole/pseuds/NarcissisticAsshole
Summary: A re-write of blowing up L'manburg and the aftermath with annoying pov changes every five seconds- i prOMISE IT'S GOOD THOUGH I SWEAR-
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Dave | Technoblade, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot, Honestly most of these are just mentions if you squint, No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson
Series: There's no turning back from a path carved in stone [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1966168
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68





	He would have loved it

**Author's Note:**

> I had a ridiculous amount of time writing this in the morning mann
> 
> I hope you enjoy this as much as i did when writing it!

“Everyone has fought for this nation. Against, or to reclaim. And that’s what counts.”

  
  
Wilbur enthusiastically clapped.

  
  
“A toast!”

  
  
It stinged. 

The fact that _he_ wasn’t the one on the podium- the one giving the speech. That he had to give up his title of president, that he had to give it up for someone else to take the mantle.

He stood up from his chair, walking among the people and heading towards the hill, hidden from sight. No one saw him leave- no one _noticed_. He wasn’t sure if he was bitter or glad about that.

“I’ll be back.”

  
  
He whispered to no one in particular. It was a _lie_ , a dirty lie. Just like everything else- just like L’manburg, just like Eret, just like _everything around him_. It was all a farce, meant to convey the feeling that they knew what they were doing.

It was all a _lie_.

[~~~~~~~~~]

“I think we should take down the festival decorations-”

  
  
A few affirmations were heard, and soon people were standing up and taking down the decorations. Techno simply watched- all he could do was _watch_ as people blindly followed a child’s orders, talking amongst themselves and making small jokes, everyone celebrating the end to Schlatt’s presidency and Tubbo’s beginning as one.

  
  
He gripped his sword tighter, refusing to let go of it as he glanced around himself. Wilbur wasn’t there- he had left a few moments ago. Nobody had noticed- nobody but himself. His face had bared a smile, muttering words to himself as he walked away from his view. He wondered where the man could have gone- and suddenly he registered Dream staring at him from afar.

People were taking down decorations, laughing and talking in groups. And yet Dream simply stared at him from afar.

An invitation for chaos.

At least that’s what he assumed it was- he had never trusted the man, but he had to admit he knew how things were supposed to go. He knew his way around the place, and his offer seemed particularly tempting at the moment.

So if he raised his crossbow and shot the president child, it wasn’t his fault, really.

Dream simply knew him all too well.

[~~~~~~~~~]

“...Phil?”

  
  
He turned around, whole body freezing as he caught sight of the winged man. His expression was absolutely unreadable, as it’d always been. 

“Hmh.”

  
  
He sounded exasperated- at least in Wilbur’s mind. He seemed tired, and he had more than enough reason to be. Philza was standing, leaning on one of the walls of the tunnel and watching him with impassive eyes. He knew he was lying.

He knew it was all a lie.

“O-okay… i _will_ admit… do you know what this button is?”

  
  
The man hummed, arms still crossed and watching him impassively. Wilbur felt slightly uncomfortable, fidgeting and looking around the room. He felt that strange feeling of approval- of wanting to earn ~~his fathers~~ Philza’s approval. A feeling he’d always tried to suppress. He’d never been _enough_ , never suited Phil’s standards enough to be recognized.

That’s why he left.

And yet the feeling was _still_ there.

Yet, ~~his father-~~ _Phil_ still had a caring expression on his face, still acted as if he cared, as if he didn’t favour any of his other brothers over him.

“H-have you heard the song… the song on the walls? I was- i was just making this point, because there _was_ a special place, but it’s not there anymore.”

  
  
As he kept on speaking, his voice turned more confident, the slight trembles of confusion and the hopes for approval all but leaving him. He remembered himself, and spoke the honeyed words he was usually known for. Phil simply looked at him weirdly, almost as if he missed the other Wilbur. As if he missed the shaking, confused, _foolish_ Wilbur from just a few moments ago.

What did _that Wilbur_ have that he didn’t?

[~~~~~~~~~]

  
Tommy watched his best friend bleeding in the floor, horror becoming the most prominent feature in his expression. He immediately ran past Techno, kneeling next to his friend and giving him a potion, trying to keep him alive. He ignored them, swinging around and meeting the people’s horrified stares and confused voices.

Dream stood behind him, axe in hand and threatening anyone who dared to get near them.

“ _Listen to me_.”

The voices quietened, and he managed to carefully see each and everyone’s terrified expressions. He would have felt bad. Perhaps he should. But he knew that if it had been _anyone_ else in Tubbo’s place, they wouldn’t have listened.

  
  
He was doing this for the greater good.

“I did _not_ spend _weeks_ , planning this revolution and getting you people gear, _just_ for you to come in and replace _one tyrant with another_. Don’t you see what’s happening here?”

He stopped, momentarily checking people’s expressions.

Horrified.

Confused.

Considering.

“Don’t you see history repeating itself!? You think _Schlatt_ was the cause of your problems?- _No_! It was this _government_. Power corrupts!”

He spit Schlatt’s name, his entire being filled with anger upon remembering the horned man. A wasted opportunity- he’d started well, he had _known_ what he was doing. Techno could- _would_ have respected the man, if his obsession hadn’t gotten the better of him.

Human nature, it seemed, always got the better of everyone.

“What are you _saying_!?”

  
  
He hear the fox speak amongst the crowd, taking a step forward and showing himself.

“I’m saying we _forget_ about this government. I’m saying _no government_.”

  
  
From the corner of his eye, he saw Tommy stand from his kneeling position and lunge towards him, sword in hand and murderous intent in his face. Dream interfered, his forever smiling face hiding what his true thoughts on the situation were, stopping Tommy’s sword with his own axe.

Chaos ensued.

[~~~~~~~~~]

“Phil- i’ve been here _so many times_... they’re fighting.”

  
  
His voice was strained from just screaming, despair filling his every bone. He was tired- tired from being privated from what was truly good for the remains of his nation. Every time he got near the button, something happened. Something that told him he couldn’t press the button, that reminded him there was still another way.

Not anymore.

“And you just want to blow it up?”

“I- i _do_ , i think i do…”

He breathed heavily, watching the button with an intensity he wouldn’t have thought possible, even from himself. He could hear the fireworks outside, the screams of panic and swords meeting in combat. It was safe to assume Techno had finally snapped, and he innerly thanked the man for being a distraction. He didn’t need any more people interfering with the inevitable.

“You fought so hard, to get this land back. So hard.”

There was disappointment in his voice. Disappointment that reminded him that Philza wasn’t here because he wanted to- he wasn’t here because he _liked_ him or _worried_ about him, despite his caring and worried expression. He was doing this because it was his duty, and Wilbur felt bitterness grow inside him with the realization.

“I don’t- i don’t even know if it works anymore, Phil. I _could_ press it and it might…”

  
  
His voice turned low, both hoping and loathing the possibility that it might not work. Because despite it all, despite the knowledge that _his L’manburg_ would never be back, he couldn’t help but hope that a new one would rise, learning from past mistakes and being better.

But he was oh, so selfish.

“Do you really want to take that risk? There is a _lot_ of TNT, potentially connected to that button.”

There were fireworks outside, and he could hear them louder than Phil’s voice. But he was willing to take the risk. He was willing to take the risk of the TNT not working- of his selfish desires being rewarded with nothing but dust and a button that didn’t work.

  
Because the other reward was too much to give it up.

“There was a saying, Phil… by a traitor, once part of L’manburg. He had a saying.”

  
  
He turned around, facing the button yet again. His hand dangled over it, screaming, *pleading* for him to finally apply pressure and press the button that had ruined his life. That had turned him into this _pathetic_ man, this pathetic and _foolish_ excuse of a man.

“It was never meant to be!”

  
  
With a smile on his face he pressed it, turning around and holding his hand in a salute.

He heard the sounds of TNT lighting up.

[~~~~~~~~~]

His sword was threatening Tommy, forcing him to stay put on the floor. He was wounded, hate filling every fibre of his being. He could feel it- the rage, bitterness and anger in Tommy. Similar to himself in the past- back when it had all been about the adrenaline of a fight and blood on his face.

Dream was next to him, pointing his crossbow at the child.

He was always there.

Suddenly, the earth shook and he heard explosions behind himself. In a moment of panic he turned around, ready to protect himself only to watch as the detonated L’manburg fell into pieces and a gigantic crater formed itself in it’s place.

“ ** _Yes!_** ”

  
  
He heard Dream’s scream next to him, and his mind began reeling with what had just happened. 

He felt a small smile take over his expression as he left Tommy behind in favour of walking towards the place that had once been L’manburg. Dream was running excitedly, examining every bit and part of the crater. He had _known_ this would happen beforehand, that much was obvious.

  
  


_Wilbur_.

Of course- of course! He had left barely after naming Tubbo president, muttering to himself and trying to hide himself from the other people. Behind the hill… behind the hill, where the _button_ was hidden. His mind supplied explanations, filling in the gaps with the knowledge he now held.

The speech was a _lie_.

It had all been a _lie_.

He was surprised it took him so long to realize.

“That madman… he actually did it!”

[~~~~~~~~~]

“ _Wil_... it’s all _gone_!”

He turned around, taking in the view of the consequences of his actions. Of his karma. His _L’manburg_ was now destroyed, with no chance of coming back now. There was no turning _back_ , and the lightness in his chest served as evidence for that. Breathing in, he chuckled and grinned, eyes widening as he watched the beautiful remains of his creation.

“My L’manburg, Phil! My _unfinished symphony_ , forever unfinished!”

He laughed, extending his arms and screaming into the air. He laughed, body hurting from the explosion, everything _ringing_. He turned to Phil, holding his chest and gesturing towards the rubble, the _crater_ he had formed mere moments ago. 

“If i can’t have it no one can!”

He let out a few dry chuckles, taking a few steps back, his body swaying and wishing he had a chair to sit on. Phil simply watched with a horrified expression. He could hear the screams of anger, glee and shock, and he felt _satisfied_. He finally did it- finally pressed the button. He finally freed himself- fred _everyone_ from the curse that had been L’manburg.

Now no one could bring it back.

No one could ever experience what he had.

Absolutely no one.

“Kill me Phil- kill me, _Phil, kill me_.”

  
  
But they would want revenge.

He grabbed his sword from his belt, placing it in Phil’s chest forcefully, waiting for him to grab it and end him, end this, end _everything_. He couldn’t- _wouldn’t_ give them the pleasure of ending his life in whatever way they saw fit. If anyone was going to do it, that was Phil. No one else would get to hear his manic laughter, to curse at him and be angry.

He was oh so selfish, and such a _coward_ too.

“Kill me- _end me_. Look- they all want you to!”

  
  
He gestured towards the crater.

There was no one.

“You’re my _son_ -!”

“Kill me!”

“No _matter_ what you do, i can’t-”

  
  
“Phil, look! How much work went into this and it’s gone!?”

His voice turned bitter. So much work- so much time and effort put into creating this land, this _festival_ and it was all gone in the blink of an eye, never to be seen again. Phil shook his head, glancing at Wilbur’s desperate figure. There was a glint of anger in his eyes, and Wilbur smiled, his grin becoming more confident as time went on.

“Do it.”

  
  
The man cursed before stepping forward, and holding one of Wilbur’s shoulders forced his sword in the insane man’s chest. 

Wilbur’s chest.

He coughed, blood leaving his mouth and grinning like a madman. A few moments later the sword was gone, and Wilbur tripped a few times before falling on the floor, hand on his wound despite his brain telling him it was over. 

He started giggling, his voice taking an edge that wasn’t there before. He had nothing, absolutely _nothing_ left to lose now. His family absolutely loathed him and his nation, the thing he’d worked so hard to achieve, was _gone_.

“Dream said… he said there was no traitor. And y’know what?”

He let out a few more giggles, sitting more comfortably and watching Phil’s horrified, trembling body.

“He fuckin’ _lied_. Phil, it was me and Techno. It was me and Techno- and he has _eight_ withers, ready to go.”

  
  
His voice was low, endearing and extremely amused. Phil cursed, turning around and pacing for a few moments, looking at the people running, at Tommy- _Tommy_ who was watching the scene unfold with terrified eyes.

“Oh- oh my god, i need to get out of here-”

“Go as _fast_ as you can, Phil. C’mon, get over there. Bye bye Phil.”

  
  
He watched as the man gave him one last glance and turned around, exiting the destroyed room through the tunnel he had originally entered through. He could see Tommy- far away, from the corner of his eyes. Watching, screaming. 

He could only laugh as life slowly left him.

It was no less than he deserved.

(He wished he could have gotten to see the rest of the show.)

(He trusted Techno would make it interesting.)

[~~~~~~~~~]

“You stay _right_ over there, Tommy! _Stand back_.”

Dream walked next to him, standing with the axe in hand. By all rights he should have stabbed him right there and then, but he had long since integrated that the man was on his side, or rather, the side of Chaos. He was on _Techno’s side_ , his mind suggested, and he took that as an excuse not to fight the other.

“Tommy- do you think you’re a hero, Tommy?”

  
  
He simply stared and pointed his crossbow in case any of the people in front of him decided to attack. Tommy fumbled over his words, hesitating over what he was supposed to answer. He was a _child_ , of _course_ he’d think of himself as the good guy.

And that was exactly what Techno intended to fix right there and then.

“I just… I just wanted L’manburg back.”

“You just wanted _power_.”

  
  
His voice was imperial, imposing and straightforward. Enough to get Tommy off guard. Distantly, he also registered Phil make his appearance, opening his mouth to say something yet realizing he was too late.

“Tommy, you just did a _coup_. You just did a hostile government takeover and then immediately instilled yourself as president. And then you gave it to your friend- but that’s _still_ a **TYRANT** , Tommy.”

He could feel Dream brimming with excitement as he listened to Techno talk, and the people were all quiet. Wounded, mad and powerful people all alike. All of them, listening to him. In some other place with different context he might have felt nervous. He might have tripped over his words and made an utter fool of himself.

Not here.

Not now.

“But the thing about this world, Tommy... is that good things don’t happen to heroes. Let me tell you a story, Tommy. A story of a man called Theseus. His country was in danger, and he sent himself forward into enemy lines. He slayed the Minotaur and saved his city! You know what they did to him, Tommy? They exiled him. He died in disgrace, despised by his people. That’s what happens to heroes, Tommy.”

His narration was monotone, delivering emotion into specific lines that made it all the more effective. Tommy opened and closed his mouth quite a few times, trying to say something but unable to come up with words to say anything to his brother.

“Techno- Techno don’t _do this_.”

The pig man turned around, admiring his creation. Soul sand piled up to create a skeleton-like figure, with two heads already placed in the corresponding spots. All that was left was to place one head in each vessel, and his creation would be finished.

A creature from hell, reincarnated in a withered skeleton.

Giving Tommy one last glance, two wither heads on his hands, he screamed on top of everyone’s voices.

“You want to be a hero, Tommy? You want to be a hero? Then **_DIE_** like one!”

  
  
Turning his back on everyone, he placed the two wither heads at the same time. He took a step back, separating himself from the Withers, which immediately began to shake and turn into a physical being.

He let out a few laughs, watching as the Withers immediately began attacking everything in sight. Dream laughed, too.

(He only mourned Wilbur wasn’t there to see this.)

(He would have loved it.)

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the [LINK](https://discord.gg/ju4CnJaZzg) to a MCYT server where you can meet other artists and writers such as myself!


End file.
